


Cares of the Day

by Archaeopteryx



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Bottom Dedue Molinaro, Cock Warming, M/M, Rough Sex, Scratching, Service Top, Top Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Torn Clothing, as requested
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26783533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archaeopteryx/pseuds/Archaeopteryx
Summary: “Dimitri,” Dedue said solemnly, resting his hands on Dimitri’s shoulders, “I would like you toravishme."Dimitri opened his mouth.Dimitri closed his mouth."I think I can manage that," he said.After a long day of politicking, Dedue and Dimitri find a way to unwind.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 6
Kudos: 65





	Cares of the Day

**Author's Note:**

> for my first kinktober entry, 'rough sex'!
> 
> ... at least, about as rough as I'm capable of writing. I'm too big of a softie

Dimitri dragged his hands down his face. “ _Saints_ , that was dreadful. If I ever have to speak to another courtier again it'll be too soon.”

Dedue sighed as he shook his hair free of its ribbon. “I would not return to the war, but at least then, I knew who meant me ill.”

“Serpents peddling poison as sweetness,” Dimitri growled. “No, to call them ‘serpents’ affords them too much dignity. Wasps buzzing in our ears, and unlike wasps, we cannot simply swat them.”

Dedue released a soft breath through his nose, the one that meant ‘if only’. “We’ll face them again tomorrow. There is no use dwelling on it.”

Palms itching, Dimitri shrugged off his cloak to hang it up, then reached for Dedue’s overcoat. It did little to vent the steam beneath his skin. “I fear I’m not as skilled as you at shrugging off their stings.”

A shadow darkened on his blind side. Dimitri glanced up to find Dedue drawn close, one hand half-raised into Dimitri’s field of view before he cupped his jaw and steered him into a kiss.

They began softly, but the beast snarling in Dimitri’s chest wanted _more_ — he curled one hand over the back of Dedue’s neck, flattened his palm against Dedue’s chest; nipped, pulling, at Dedue’s lower lip. Dedue gasped, and Dimitri surged forward, nails dug into Dedue’s shirt, tongue in Dedue’s mouth. Before he could catch himself, Dedue wrapped his arms around his back and leaned down into him, letting Dimitri bear his weight.

They paused for breath, eyes wide, lips parted. A strand of silver drifted against Dedue’s nose; Dimitri tucked it back behind his ear with a trembling hand. Dedue slipped his fingers beneath the string of Dimitri’s eyepatch, then let it fall.

“A nest of wasps can fell a warhorse,” he said, “and _we_ must feign courtesy as they swarm.” The corners of his mouth tightened. “I am tired, Dimitri. Let us take what respite we can.”

Against his better nature, Dimitri bristled. The countless scratches, scrapes, bruises of the soul suffered through day after day of politicking — he'd bear them a thousand times and more, but his love? Dedue, his husband, nobler, truer, _better_ than any courtly parasite deserved? _Intolerable_ , the beast snarled, and Dimitri was inclined to agree. "What do you need?”

Dedue held his silence for a time. When he looked down at Dimitri’s face, his eyes had darkened, heated, sending a lightning-shiver through Dimitri’s chest. “Show me how you love me,” he said, soft and rumbling as far-off thunder. “How you want me. Give me something to be certain of … Give me everything, and trust that I can take it.”

Dimitri huffed, sheepish. “Gladly, love, but I’ll need a more concrete request.”

“Dimitri,” Dedue said solemnly, resting his hands on Dimitri’s shoulders, “I would like you to _ravish_ me."

Dimitri opened his mouth.

Dimitri closed his mouth.

"I think I can manage that," he said. His gaze raked over Dedue, head to toe and back again. His tongue slid across his lower lip. A slow, crooked grin spread across his face. "Dedue, dearest husband, love of my life, how attached are you to those clothes?"

A glitter in Dedue's eyes, a tic at the corner of his mouth. "Not particularly."

"Oh, good," Dimitri said cheerfully, before he heaved Dedue over his shoulder, bounded across the floor, and flipped him unceremoniously over the bed. The frame creaked, but the monumental thing had withstood the creation of several generations of Blaiddyds, and Dimitri pounced without hesitation, muffling his husband’s yelp under a sloppy kiss. One hand cupped Dedue’s jaw, lifted his chin, bared his throat and the smooth side of his neck for Dimitri’s mouth. His kisses trailed down, hot and wet, dragging his tongue over the soft spot beneath Dedue's jaw and the trembling skin above his pulse. Dedue sighed, squirming back into the mattress — Dimitri followed him without mercy, nipping sharply at his throat.

“Nn — Dimitri — ”

“How am I doing, love?” Dimitri purred. He rolled his hips, grinding his thigh against the rising tent in Dedue’s trousers, and chuckled at Dedue’s caught breath.

“If — you’re going — to b-bite,” Dedue panted, squirming beneath Dimitri’s wandering hands, “ _nnh_ — ”

“Under the collar, yes?” Dimitri shifted onto his elbow, freeing one hand to tear open the collar of Dedue’s shirt. Pale buttons scattered across the dark sheets. He pressed his lips to the bared curve of Dedue’s shoulder, ran his hand up the scarred, silver-haired expanse of Dedue’s chest. “Don’t worry. I know. Our secret, my love. Though,” he went on, smiling sharp-toothed against Dedue’s neck, “let me have my way, and _you_ won’t soon forget.”

Dedue whined, chest heaving. Dimitri surged up to catch the sound in his mouth like a butterfly beneath a glass, rare and precious, throwing his thigh over Dedue’s belly and taking his face in both hands. 

“Would you like that?” he murmured when he broke away. His lips brushed Dedue’s; their breath mingled, wet and warm. "I would paint you in every color I could, if you'd let me. Let you do the same to me. Let all the world know how much we love each other, my dearest, my north star, my hearth." He pressed their foreheads together, so close their eyelashes brushed. "Hide it beneath a collar or a scarf, my love, but we'll know. You'll feel it every time your shirt brushes your shoulders. With every movement." Dimitri paused with a fox's grin. "Every step. What do you think, my love? Shall I?"

Dedue yanked him into another kiss, open-mouthed and sloppy. "You have a lovely tongue," he said when they parted, "but I asked to be ravished, not romanced."

"Of course. Where are my manners?" Dimitri yanked Dedue's shirt from his shoulders, tearing it down the middle without tensing his muscles. "I must be doing well, if I've made you impa — _hey!_ " 

Dedue rolled over. Dimitri squawked as his shoulders hit the mattress, suddenly staring _up_ at his husband rather than down. Dedue shrugged off the torn remnants of his shirt, then slid his hands under the hem of Dimitri’s and up his belly, rucking up the cloth. Dimitri wriggled, easing its passage, arching against Dedue’s palms. It caught around his shoulders — irritable, he dug his fingers into the fabric and tore it off, dropping the remains who-cared-where. Dedue squeezed his waist and bent his head, leaving his own trail of marks along Dimitri’s shoulder and collarbone. Dimitri tipped his head aside with an eager moan — 

Hang on.

Loath as he was to dislodge Dedue from his neck, Dimitri braced his shoulder against the mattress and shoved Dedue’s chest, flipping them back over. “I thought you were the one being ravished.”

Dedue lifted his chin, eyes glinting. “Well?” 

Heat welled up in Dimitri’s chest, fierce and relentless as sunlight. “ _You asked_ ,” he growled. 

Unspent fury urged him to sink his _teeth_ into — into Dedue’s shoulder, resolved the impulse, lacking another outlet. Not to harm, never to harm his dearest husband, his beloved, but to lay his mark against all the stinging, biting world outside their door. Dedue cried out, nails raking across Dimitri's back; he bit deeper, worrying the muscle until it bruised. Satisfied, he ran his tongue over the spot, soothing it with a kiss. _Mine_ , the beast rumbled, tail lashing. Safe, held close, his to shelter and protect. Here, at least, to be loved as he deserved: precious, cherished, lavished with all Dimitri's attention, his sole and singular focus.

He made good on his promise to mark up Dedue’s shoulders, his collarbones, then bit and clawed his way down Dedue's torso, sinking teeth into his chest, digging nails into his sides. He lapped at Dedue’s nipple, bit down as Dedue arched up against him with a gasp — glanced up to find his husband panting, clutching at the sheets above his head, cock hard through his trousers and against Dimitri’s belly. He cupped Dedue’s crotch in one palm, ground down; the groan Dedue gave sent him reeling, dizzy, without anchor until he clutched at Dedue’s waist.

“Let me,” Dimitri panted, because he could play at roughness with his dearest love, but only ever play, “let me h-have you, love — precious, perfect — ” His hips jerked, rutting against Dedue’s thigh. If they didn’t get somewhere soon, Dimitri would come like that; he wouldn’t mind, but he’d need to last to give Dedue what he wanted. Dedue bucked against his hand. Dimitri pulled away, and he arched, whining, chasing the pressure. "No, love, no, I need — need — " He found Dedue's hand with his own, twined their fingers together, squeezed.

Dedue squeezed back.

“Alright. Alright.” Dimitri sighed. “Let me just — damn it — ”

Dimitri crawled to their bedside table with onefoot hooked around Dedue's shin, though he had to stretch to reach. He fished out their bottle of oil, though, and returned to kiss his husband; slipped his trembling fingers beneath the hem of Dedue’s trousers, flexed his shoulders, and tore them open, freeing Dedue’s cock. Dedue gasped into Dimitri's mouth, hips rolling, while Dimitri tore and kicked free of his own _ah, Saints —_

Dimitri bit his lip, whining through his nose, at the cool air against his aching cock. Deep breaths. "F-face up or down?"

“Up.” Dedue’s eyes met Dimitri’s, misty with want, lovelier than anything. “I want to see you.” 

Goddess, how could one man love so much?

Dimitri held out, somehow, through the slow process of working Dedue open. Painstakingly careful with his shaking hands, fingers dripping with oil, nerves sharp to any hint of real pain … to the heat of his lover’s deepest and most delicate place, trembling around his hand. To the hidden reaches of Dedue’s voice, coaxed out in secret, entrusted to Dimitri alone. His fingers curled, twisted, thrust; quiet panting turned to hoarse whines, to low, ragged moans; to cries and — 

“Dimitri — Dimitri, _please_ — ”

Asked so nicely, how could he refuse?

More oil spilled, white-gold and gleaming, over his fingers, as he settled himself between Dedue's thighs. His cock slid smoothly home. They both shuddered, gasping at the adjustment.

Oh, but Dimitri _hungered_ , and Dedue had asked, so — a snap inward, a slow drag out, finding the angle that made Dedue gasp and writhe, arch his back and clench around Dimitri. Sparks flashed white behind Dimitri's eyes; he grabbed Dedue's rear, nails dug in to lift his hips as Dimitri rose onto his knees. His thrusts turned fiercer, forceful, steady and pounding.

"Look at me," Dimitri panted, reaching for Dedue's chin with his clean hand. "See what you've done to me? All this — " Flushed and panting, streaked with sweat, hair disheveled, good eye wild — "is you, my l-love, all — _ngh — !_ "

Dedue's ankles locked around the small of Dimitri's back, clutching him close (kicking Dimitri in the kidney, not hard, but _ow_ ). He flung his head back, rolled his hips, cried ' _Dimitri!_ ' loud and sweet. Heat roared up through Dimitri's belly, into his chest, and he came, gasping Dedue's name like a prayer. Through the peak, he curled his oil-slick fingers around his husband's cock, jerking hard and fast until, with a lurch and a long groan, Dedue spilled over his hand.

They hung there, chests heaving, as their hearts and their breathing steadied.

Slowly, Dimitri sank back to his heels. He moved to pull out, but Dedue squeezed his calves around his back. "S-stay," he croaked. "Please."

Dimitri wiped his hands on the remains of his pants, and stayed.

Dedue draped one arm over his eyes, catching his breath. Dimitri could sit and watch for as long as he wanted, basking in what he'd done — the peace he'd brought his love, for once relaxed, puddled bonelessly on the sheets. The marks of love across his chest and shoulders, set to last for days, at least. Running his palms absently over Dedue's hips, fit so perfectly inside him as though he had always and would always belong there.

"Was that what you needed?" he asked, soft in the hush.

Dedue nodded.

"Oh, good." Dimitri rubbed his thighs. "I needed it, too."

Dedue raised his hand. Dimitri took it, and he squeezed. Dimitri squeezed back.

The flush faded into a muzzy, comfortable warmth. Dedue’s calves sank to the mattress; Dimitri slid out, and they both sighed at the loss. Dedue shifted as if to roll over — Dimitri braced his hands on his shoulders, holding him down.

"No, my love. Let me."

Dedue sighed, his expression soft. Dimitri kissed him, then slipped away.

He didn't want to. He _wanted_ to drape himself over his husband and sleep like that, naked and entangled, sticky and warm in each other's arms … but Dedue had higher standards of cleanliness, and Dimitri would set aside his own sleepiness if it meant allowing Dedue a few more minutes of rest. It was nice to wash his hands.

Hot water and a washcloth to clean Dedue's thighs and belly, to soothe the scratches and bite-marks Dimitri had left; cool water and a glass to push into his husband's hands while Dimitri slipped behind him, hooking his chin over Dedue's shoulder and wrapping his arms around his ribs.

“I love you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss behind Dedue’s ear.

“I know.” Dedue set the empty glass on their bedside table and settled back against Dimitri. “I love you, too.”

“I love you.”

“Mm.”

“I love you.”

No answer but a soft sigh, Dedue’s head sinking against Dimitri’s neck. Dimitri kissed his temple, and reached with painstaking care to drag the edge of the quilt over them both without disturbing him.

“I love you,” he whispered, snuggling deeper into their pillows. “G’night.”

Drifting on the edges of consciousness, he caught a mumbled, “ ‘mnighh’.”


End file.
